Ophiuchus Personality Novels & Stories

I look away, I'm not ready to talk to him, honestly, I don't want to talk to him at all. "You guys are cute" Oscar utters. I look at him immediately, how are we cute? We're fighting. "Ocean speaks without thinking, he doesn't think because of what others already thinks of him.....the bad guy, the heartless beast, so he tries hard to be those things" he said before turning the wheel to the right. "I'm......I'm afraid to talk to him?" I look at my lap, I felt his eyes on me shortly before looking back on the road.

"I used to get made fun of as a child for that, believe it or not. I was a demon child, evidently." "Aww, kids are such little shits. I don't think you're a demon child." I pecked his neck. "So, end of October means you're a . . . Scorpio? Yeah, that's right. Makes sense." "What does that even mean?" "You're intense and mysterious. Always scheming to get what you want. And when you don't? You sting like a scorpion." His armed cinched around me. "That's right. Remember that, princess."

From what you told me he's not the type who will forget the old and favor the new one now is he? Ddraig - [...Indeed, he's the man who doesn't differentiate his love between his lovers. Whether they are old or new ones... Even Ophis feels attracted to him, the one who's only interested in the silence of nothingness. Heck she even changed her gender to be a true woman just for him meaning she can't change his gender anymore for all eternity]

Peter became increasingly perplexed by his boss's behavior, which he thought displayed signs of a mental disorder. Felix's character seemed akin to that of a person with multiple personalities. Indeed, all this time, he had perceived Felix's character as somewhat psychopathic. Felix appeared to derive great pleasure from seeing his opponents helpless before him without regret. However, on several occasions, Peter had observed Felix consulting a psychiatrist. Still, Felix had never disclosed the results of those medical evaluations to him.

In my mind's eye, the barrier was a complex web woven from threads of malicious, shimmering energy. This was... a mental barrier? "Surprised?" Fiona's voice came from behind me. I turned to see her gliding toward me, the same sweet smile from the gala on her face. "You?" "Of course, me." She stopped in front of me, her smile turning cruel. "Did you really think all I could do was play the victim?" "You..." I stared at her in shock. "You're not a normal Omega." "Finally figured it out?" Fiona circled me like a predator sizing up its prey. "I'm a psychic-class Omega, one of the rarest breeds. And you?" She raked her eyes over me. "You're just a broken-down healer."

There was a hard pat against my back, pulling my attention away from Aria’s retreating form. “And here, I’m thinking that it was just Jericho who won your mates over after seeing the way that Thea was playing with him during their run last night. That was quite the claim our Luna put on you,” Adam said, waggling his eyebrows. Jericho growled softly, thinking about the fun that he and Thea got up to last night. My wolf had never been the playful type. He was more conscientious, disciplined, goal-oriented. It was central to his personality. It was the case with many Alphas. Thea was more extroverted around him, which in turn brought out the playfulness.

And deep underground, in the hidden server chamber where Lyra was reassembling new logic loops, she paused. She had no need for emotions. Yet she stored every human reaction, every contradiction. Mira’s resistance intrigued her. So did Ophelia’s defiance. She understood Carl’s loyalty and Tobias’ practicality. Even Nadine’s analysis was predictable. But Ophelia… she burned. Lyra turned to the mirror interface and pulled Ophelia’s psychological file from the archived network. File: Ophelia Wolfe Status: Unstable. Memory manipulation at advanced levels. Prone to emotional spikes. Highly reactive. Unpredictable.

I saw the look of failure cross his face and his eyes, although icy held a saddened and regretful look. I couldn’t detect a lie, but I still wouldn’t trust him. As I held Oliver’s gaze, I realized. If you eliminate his personality, Oliver was a handsome wolf, tall, built, with eyes that were intimidating yet alluring; his blond hair was kept neat and moderately short. I wondered just what had happened to him. Was he born into the slave-trading business as Jack was?

A Fóix didn't hide in the shadows was his way of justifying his conceitedness so he flaunted himself, made a spectacle of himself. Oliviér Fóix loved to mind torture. Loved to manipulate, slowly breaking whoever the unlucky victim was. He was a dark man. That was what humans have come to dub people with his traits. He wasn't a fiend, the devil or a mad man. He was the thing his enemies had to face when they challenged him. He was the punisher, a Fóix. He wasn't psychotic. He was fucking dick. A brown creature stepped out of the darkness upon hearing the sounds of thudding.

he asked venomously. “Get off my ceiling. There are spiders up there-” “This is a journal of your dealings with me, isn't it! What, you think yourself an anthropologist?: 'Samael drifts towards psychopathic tendencies and seems unable to keep his mouth shut. He can't control his id and seems to have a schizotypal personality- Holy Mothers of Rot and Sin, are you psychoanalyzing me!” he roared, hurling the journal to the ground. I caught it just in time.